hardly indicated it.’
‘I am not one. But …’ He stopped. He had his own sorry tale. He had never mentioned Clothilde to his companion.
Red Hugh was studying him. ‘Well then,’ he said eventually, ‘your health! Now tell me, lad, before I give you all my news,
what are your plans?’
Jack had thought of several. He had his duty to his King, even if the dispatches he bore were half a year beyond their expectation.
His regiment? He had no thought as to where the 16th Light Dragoons and its commander, John Burgoyne, might be. He’d left
them training in London in the summer of 1759 when he’d been sent as King’s Messenger to Wolfe at Quebec. That was over eighteen
months before. His father? Well, Sir James would probably still be at war in Germany, waiting out the repercussions of his
slaying of Lord Melbury in the duel at Vauxhall, the duel Jack had provoked by daring to woo Melbury’s mistress, Fanny Harper.
While his mother …
The thought of her uplifted him. ‘I suppose I go to London.’
‘How?’
‘How?’ It was a strange question. ‘By horse, naturally. I am a cavalryman not a bloody Grenadier.’
‘Jack, you’re swaying on the edge of that bed. I think anything livelier is beyond you. And why do you go?’
‘To deliver—’
‘Out of date messages.’
‘And to report—’
‘To a regiment that is probably at war somewhere else.’
Jack was starting to be annoyed with the badgering. ‘And what would you have me do, sir?’
‘Come to Bath.’
‘Bath?’
‘It’s where I’ve been this last week.’
Jack laughed. It was such an absurd idea. ‘And what would I do in Bath? Take the waters?’
‘Exactly. It’s what invalids do. And as your physician, I advise you that galloping to London and then, no doubt, throwing
yourself onto the delights of the town will undo all my good work and the work of our little friend here.’ He tapped the nutshell
still on Jack’s neck. ‘You can send the dispatches on with an officer fit to bear them, and word to family and regiment, who
will summon you if duty calls and your health permits. Meanwhile, you can recover properly from an illness that has nearly
killed you.’
The man had a point. And Jack had always wanted to visit a city so dedicated to pleasure. ‘But what of you? I thought business
and family were both drawing you away.’
‘Now isn’t that the most marvellous thing? For haven’t I discovered that the two of them are also met? And are they not the
both of them in Bath?’
Jack was finding the Irish-isms a little hard to follow. ‘Does that mean they are or they aren’t?’
‘They are.’ The Irishman beamed. ‘I’ve a deal to clinch in the city that might go halfway to undoing my family’s entire woe.
And now my cousin has just arrived there to seal my happiness.’
‘Your cousin?’
‘Laetitia Fitzpatrick, the most beautiful girl in all Ireland.’
‘
Is
she?’
‘She is.’ The jug was halted halfway to the lips. ‘But you can take that gleam from your eye, Absolute. For you’ll be getting
nowhere near her, sure.’
Jack frowned. ‘Why not, pray?’
Red Hugh laid a hand on Jack’s shoulder. ‘Lad, you have told me your history of courtesans and widow women and the like. And
did I not discover you just now with two tavern hellions fighting over your favours? I’ve told you, my boy, you remind me
strangely of myself when I was your age,’ he smiled, ‘which is the main reason I’ll be keeping you far away from my lovely
cousin.’
Jack laid down his beer. ‘Sir, I agree that some of my actions may not always have been entirely honourable. But I would remind
you that, youth aside, I am also the son of a baronet and raised a gentleman.’ He flushed. ‘And as such, I know how to behave
with a lady.’
Red Hugh regarded him thoughtfully. ‘Well, Jack, I shall weigh your future conduct against your past misdeameanours.’ He smiled.
‘Still, seeing as we’ll all be
‘I am not one. But …’ He stopped. He had his own sorry tale. He had never mentioned Clothilde to his companion.
Red Hugh was studying him. ‘Well then,’ he said eventually, ‘your health! Now tell me, lad, before I give you all my news,
what are your plans?’
Jack had thought of several. He had his duty to his King, even if the dispatches he bore were half a year beyond their expectation.
His regiment? He had no thought as to where the 16th Light Dragoons and its commander, John Burgoyne, might be. He’d left
them training in London in the summer of 1759 when he’d been sent as King’s Messenger to Wolfe at Quebec. That was over eighteen
months before. His father? Well, Sir James would probably still be at war in Germany, waiting out the repercussions of his
slaying of Lord Melbury in the duel at Vauxhall, the duel Jack had provoked by daring to woo Melbury’s mistress, Fanny Harper.
While his mother …
The thought of her uplifted him. ‘I suppose I go to London.’
‘How?’
‘How?’ It was a strange question. ‘By horse, naturally. I am a cavalryman not a bloody Grenadier.’
‘Jack, you’re swaying on the edge of that bed. I think anything livelier is beyond you. And why do you go?’
‘To deliver—’
‘Out of date messages.’
‘And to report—’
‘To a regiment that is probably at war somewhere else.’
Jack was starting to be annoyed with the badgering. ‘And what would you have me do, sir?’
‘Come to Bath.’
‘Bath?’
‘It’s where I’ve been this last week.’
Jack laughed. It was such an absurd idea. ‘And what would I do in Bath? Take the waters?’
‘Exactly. It’s what invalids do. And as your physician, I advise you that galloping to London and then, no doubt, throwing
yourself onto the delights of the town will undo all my good work and the work of our little friend here.’ He tapped the nutshell
still on Jack’s neck. ‘You can send the dispatches on with an officer fit to bear them, and word to family and regiment, who
will summon you if duty calls and your health permits. Meanwhile, you can recover properly from an illness that has nearly
killed you.’
The man had a point. And Jack had always wanted to visit a city so dedicated to pleasure. ‘But what of you? I thought business
and family were both drawing you away.’
‘Now isn’t that the most marvellous thing? For haven’t I discovered that the two of them are also met? And are they not the
both of them in Bath?’
Jack was finding the Irish-isms a little hard to follow. ‘Does that mean they are or they aren’t?’
‘They are.’ The Irishman beamed. ‘I’ve a deal to clinch in the city that might go halfway to undoing my family’s entire woe.
And now my cousin has just arrived there to seal my happiness.’
‘Your cousin?’
‘Laetitia Fitzpatrick, the most beautiful girl in all Ireland.’
‘
Is
she?’
‘She is.’ The jug was halted halfway to the lips. ‘But you can take that gleam from your eye, Absolute. For you’ll be getting
nowhere near her, sure.’
Jack frowned. ‘Why not, pray?’
Red Hugh laid a hand on Jack’s shoulder. ‘Lad, you have told me your history of courtesans and widow women and the like. And
did I not discover you just now with two tavern hellions fighting over your favours? I’ve told you, my boy, you remind me
strangely of myself when I was your age,’ he smiled, ‘which is the main reason I’ll be keeping you far away from my lovely
cousin.’
Jack laid down his beer. ‘Sir, I agree that some of my actions may not always have been entirely honourable. But I would remind
you that, youth aside, I am also the son of a baronet and raised a gentleman.’ He flushed. ‘And as such, I know how to behave
with a lady.’
Red Hugh regarded him thoughtfully. ‘Well, Jack, I shall weigh your future conduct against your past misdeameanours.’ He smiled.
‘Still, seeing as we’ll all be
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